


Defying Words

by arihime



Series: Twin AU [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Patricide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4592877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arihime/pseuds/arihime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The assassination attempt on Emmeryn brings Aislin face to face with someone she never wanted to see again: her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defying Words

**Author's Note:**

> Because having your memories means that you remember just how horrible your father really is.

The assassins are relentless, and worst of all, smart. Aislin only manages to pick off a few of them with her arrows before they start diving behind pillars and other cover, slowly inching their way up the stairs. Behind her, she can hear the others fighting off the sole wave that managed to get up the stairs, before Narcissus stationed her there as a deterrent. She ducks behind the wall and sneaks a glance at them, noting with pride that Narcissus has once again been right in his partnering. He and Chrom lead the charge as normal, holding steadfast in front of the door to Emmeryn’s room. Marth stands with them, her sword gleaming twin to Falchion.   


Aislin’s gaze snaps back to the stairs when her own partner groans. The would-be assassin, Gaius, has proven useful in the little time they’ve fought together, and already he sees the same problem she does.   


“Oh, so these guys decide that trying to assassinate the Exalt is a good idea, but taking arrows apparently isn’t.”   


“We’ll have to lure them out somehow.” Aislin says, though even that idea is dubious. The melee fighters are easy enough, but there are mages mixed in among them. It’s become a game of sorts, seeing who can poke their head out and attack first before the other gets them. So far, Aislin’s been winning.   


“Hmmm. . .” Gaius surveys the scene in front of him, twirling his sword lazily. “How good are you with that bow of yours, Violet?”   


“Good enough to keep you from getting killed.” Aislin replies, already guessing his plan.   


“I’ll hold you to that. I don’t intend on dying here before I can get more of those sweets off Blue.”   


He vaults down the stairs, bellowing his arrival. Aislin notches her bow and follows, quickly picking off a thief too stupid to notice an obvious trap.   


The assassins swarm Gaius, pulling in close before Aislin can get more shots off. He’s holding his own, so Aislin focuses on taking out the mages first, before turning to the group surrounding him. She fires a few arrows as a warning, but there’s too many, and they’re moving too fast for her to really shoot without hitting Gaius. And some of them have noticed her.   


An axeman runs up the stairs, weapon poised over his head. Aislin flips her grips on her bow, swinging the wooden part at him like a club. He pulls back on instinct, and she uses the distraction to kick him squarely in the chest, sending him back down the stairs. He smacks into an oncoming swordsman. They sprawl on the landing, right in the middle of the group Gaius is fighting, and soon several more join the pile.   


“I take back what I said before.” Gaius says, driving his sword through one of the downed men’s chest. “They aren’t smart at all.”   


Aislin smirks and starts to answer, but at the same moment a spark of purple catches her eye. She yelps and flings herself at Gaius, pushing him out of the way just as a bolt of dark magic sears across her back. Without stopping she twists, notching her bow, and firing in the same moment.    


The dark mage goes down with an arrow through his eye.   


Gaius whistles. “Geez, Violet.”   


Aislin smirks. “I told you I was good with a bow.”   


Her back stings, but she’s so used to dark magic that she can ignore the pain. The floor is clear, and without a word, they both move forward and press themselves against a pillar, checking the courtyard below.   


“Doesn’t look like there’s anyone—”   


Dark magic arches above their heads, forcing them both down.   


“What the hell was that?” Gaius hisses. “Now they decide to bring out the big guns?”   


Aislin is silent. She knows the feel of that magic, recognizes it from years spent in captivity. Validar would use a similar spell when he wanted to punish her, or teach Narcissus a lesson. Just feeling that power again makes her scars ache.   


Her hands tightens on her bow. Gaius is saying something, but she ignores him, pushing herself up until she can peak over the railings.   


The figure from her nightmares stands in the courtyard, dark magic clinging to every part of his body. The tome is open in front of him, sparking as he prepares another spell. As Aislin watching, he looks up and smirks at her.   


This time the blast is stronger, and she flattens both herself and Gaius down against the floor.   


“That tome is more accurate at long distances.” She says, surprised at how clinical her voice sounds. Her blood is pounding in her ears. “We need to distract him and get in close if we want to defeat him.”   


Gaius nods. “Alright. So I’ll go down and—”   


“No, I’ll do it.” At Gaius’ quizzical look, she continues. “I’ve dealt with this kind of tome before.”   


The memories are right at the forefront her of mind, pushed down only by the heat of battle. Still, she can remember her pain clearly, and her brother’s pleading.   


And the laughing. Validar always laughed when he was torturing her.   


“You go back up and get his attention. I’ll sneak down and attack him up close.”   


“You sure about that, Violet?” Gaius’ voice is doubtful, his eyes alternating between her and the dark mage.   


Aislin nods. “Like I said, I’ve dealt with this kind of magic before. Besides, I have a resistance to dark magic. Even if he does hit me, I’ll still be able to attack.”   


Resistance is a strong word, but she’s long since stopped screaming because of spells like that, and she knows it’ll translate into the battle.   


She won’t be able to use her bow if she’s going to be fighting at close range, though. She motions to Gaius’ sword. “Mind if I borrow that?”   


Gaius takes one more look at Validar and then sighs, handing her the weapon. “Fine. But be careful, will you? If you die, I’m pretty sure the tactician or the prince will have my head.”   


Aislin laughs. “The tactician is my brother. He has a protective streak, sometimes.”   


She almost wants ends that sentence with _go get him_ , but the words stick in her throat. She won’t have Validar anywhere near Narcissus, not after everything they went through to escape.    


No, this is her fight alone.   


“Good luck, Violet,” Gaius says.   


With those words, he’s off, making a theatrical retreat back up the stairs. Just as Aislin predicted, Validar focuses on him immediately, and he has to throw himself sideways to avoid getting hit.   


Aislin forces herself to look away. _Gaius will be fine_ , she thinks. After all, Validar is nothing if not smart, and he’s seen her. Eventually, he’ll switch targets.

She tests the weight of the sword in her hand. It feels fine, just like the swords Narcissus’ has had her practice with. She sends a silent thanks that her brother insisted on teaching her swordplay in the first place. She wouldn’t be able to do this without him.   


The night’s shadows are large enough to hide her as she sneaks down the stairs, and the sound of fighting muffles her footsteps. She waits until Validar finishes his latest attack, then leaps, sword pointed at his head.   


His figure blurs an instant before her attack hits, and her sword goes through thin air. She turns immediately, and finds him standing at the other end of the courtyard.   


Damn. She forgot about the teleportation spell.   


He smirks at her, no doubt taking in the sword and her fighting stance.   


“Ah, the spare.” He drags out the words, and her blood boils as memories rush forward again. _Spare, useless, worthless_. He called her so many things, she wonders if he even knows her name.    


She is his daughter, after all.   


“I should have known you would be here. You have such a tendency to cling to those superior to you.”   


“What the hell are you doing here, Validar?” Aislin snaps. “What would assassinating the Exalt get you?”   


She doubts that he’s doing this for Gangrel, or for Plegia. Validar’s loyalty has always been to himself, and to Grima.    


He tuts. “Short sighted and rude, as always. You never could understand the plans of your betters.”   


“As if I’d want to understand the plans of a mad man.”   


“You of all people should know the truth behind our plans. Grima’s blood flows through your veins, as it does mine.” His gaze wanders upward, to the top level of the palace. “And your brother’s.”   


Aislin’s hands tighten on the sword. “You aren’t touching Narcissus.” She spits out.    


“Poor thing.” Validar mocks. “You should know by know that you can’t fight fate.”   


Aislin charges, but Validar teleports before she gets even half way across the courtyard. She feels the dark energy collecting behind her, and turns in time to block the wave with the sword. It’s not a perfect block; the magic burns her gloves off and part of her sleeves, but just like with her back, she pushes the pain away.    


She charges again, but every time she gets close, Validar teleports away. She almost reaches for her bow—she is not an expert sword fighter, no matter how many lessons Narcissus gives her—but decides against it. Putting distance between them would only make her a better target.   


Besides, she wants to be able to feel it when she kills him.   


He can’t keep teleporting forever. Already, she can tell he’s tiring, the dark magic steadily decreasing in intensity. She’s not doing much better; her arms ache from the weight of the sword and her wounds. She’s going to feel all of these hits in full force once the battle is over, but for now they only fuel her resolve. All she needs is to get inside his guard. One clean hit, and it’ll be all over.   


They dance across the courtyard, path marked by streaks of purple energy and bright lights. Aislin start dodging instead of barreling through the attacks, though the move is risky because she loses sight of him every time. He’s started teleporting closer to her, giving her less time to react. He’s as desperate to finish this as she is, she realizes.    


She can use that.   


After one more round of blasting and fleeing, she lets her attention wander up to where the others are fighting. The sounds of battle have long since died, and she knows it’s only a matter of moments before Narcissus comes looking for her. She needs to end this quickly.   


The next time Validar shoots at her, she barrels through it, running forward a few paces before she stops. Validar isn’t in her line of sight, but she can sense him. She backs up a bit, letting her eyes roam around the courtyard wildly. The magic solidifies in her senses, the spell charging—   


Aislin whirls. Validar is right behind her. She lunges, and feels the sword pierce flesh just as he fires.   


The pain is excruciating; Aislin screams, half in agony and half in triumph. She plants her feet and plunges her sword deeper, twisting it for further effect.   


Abruptly, the spell dies. Aislin struggles to stay upright, her body feeling like it’s on fire. She lets go of the sword and staggers back a few steps before she regains her footing. She blinks, trying to clear the sudden haze from her eyes, and looks up at her father.   


Validar stares back at her, eyes wide in disbelief, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. More spills from the wound in his chest where the sword is lodged, right over his heart.   


“Impossible,” he gasps out. “You’re just the useless spare—”   


He falls before he can finish cursing her, blood pooling around him.   


“If I’m useless,” Aislin whispers, “then what does that make you, dead by my hand?”   


The body gives no reply.


End file.
